Crossroads - You Are Brave

On Thursday night, I stayed in Nicole's room in ICU because there were no extra sleep rooms available, and interruptions aside, the chair-turned-cot was very difficult to sleep on.  So last night (Friday), I wasn't in her room.  When she went down to ICU last night, she was doing ok, and they started her back on the Milrinone (heart medicine).  I was hoping that by morning, Nicole would be noticeably improved...

At 5 A.M. this morning (Saturday, 10/18), a nurse woke me and said Nicole had worsened through the night, and I was needed.  When I arrived in her room, it was obvious that Nicole was unhappy and uncomfortable, and as time passed, I started to get anxious.  It was clear the Milrinone wasn't working like it had previously, even after they'd increased the dosage during the night..  Nicole's heart was racing in the 180s, and occasionally breaking 190 beats-per-minute (120s is where it ought to be), and the nurse told me that the CO2 level in her blood was steadily increasing.  They had also switched her to high-flow oxygen, but it didn't seem to be helping the CO2.  Furthermore, she was still running a high temperature - something which the doctors had expected the steroid to knock-down. 

By 6 A.M., when one of the PICU doctors came in and filled-in details, I was already prepared for bad news, and it was bad.  They'd done another EKG and another x-ray right before I'd gotten there.  The EKG showed a heart problem, and the x-ray showed a lung problem, neither of which were surprising, given her state.  The doctor reiterated that Nicole wasn't responding to the heart medicine, and that her heart was failing  - yes, Nicole is suffering heart failure - and that they were considering options, with the main thing being sedation and intubation; maybe if they could get her body to relax some and have machine-assisted breathing, her heart would slow down and start working better.

The doctor didn't mince words.  Heart failure.  Intubation.  In my mind, I started reliving what happened to Nicole in July 2012 when she got pertussis - a blog I've started, but haven't been able to finish yet - and I became more afraid than I ever have been since Nicole's relapse.  Today has not been a good day; it ranks among the worst days of the journey so far, and definitely the worst day since her relapse.  Anyway, Cathy was already planning to come back down with our other girls this morning, but looking at Nicole, I sent Cathy a text and said she needed to come now - Nicole needed her mother.

Some time passed, and Nicole physically looked worse and worse.  The medical staff was in-and-out of the room, and after things settled a bit, I gave her a father's blessing, but didn't feel much guidance from the Spirit.  After that, I simply began to pray silently, pleading earnestly with Heavenly Father in Nicole's behalf.  As I looked at my little girl, pleading with Heavenly Father, a kind of anguish that I have not felt for a long time started tearing me up inside.  "Is this how it ends?  Wilt Thou take Nicole this time?"  No response.  "Wilt Thou not heal her?  No response.  Wilt Thou prolong her suffering?"  The heartbreaking answer, "I will."  Then, "Wilt thou then strengthen her to be able to endure this?"  "I will."

By 7:30 A.M. or so, I'd shed tears a few times, and was doing everything I could think of to help distract Nicole from her present suffering.  Singing to her helped for a while.  Then we looked at a copy of the Friend magazine, which kept her attention for a few minutes.  Then we watched a few YouTube videos on my phone - Kermit singing cover for "Let It Go" from Frozen; Owl City, "When Can I See You Again" from Wreck It Ralph.  I remembered she likes Hilary Weeks songs, even tries to sing along with some of them, so I searched and found someone had made a video featuring "Brave" (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TpJUFUpTzb4).  Nicole likes that song.  We listened to that one a few times and I shed some more tears.

A little while after that, I was sitting on the bed with Nicole, and she was laying listlessly on the bed next to me, and we were alone again. Suddenly, Nicole struggled to sit up; I was surprised by the sudden burst of energy and determination, but I put my hand on her back and helped her up.  Nicole sat perfectly calm, perfectly still, looking straight ahead. I pulled back a little, watching her closely for a few moments with a distinct feeling that something was happening with her.  Then the PICU doctor walked in, took one glance at her and also seemed to feel the strangeness of Nicole's posture and behavior.  She immediately said to me, "What's going on?  What is she doing?"  To which I replied, "I don't know, she just sat up a moment ago."  Again, I think the doctor sensed the same thing I felt; she quietly came around and knelt down on the floor by the side of the bed near me and started asking Nicole questions, but Nicole didn't even glance at her, just sat perfectly still, staring straight ahead.  prior to this, the medical staff had agitated her quite a bit, and when anyone spoke her and asked her a question, she would just shake her head and say no.  But not now.  "Nicole, where's your dad?" was one of the questions the doctor repeated several times, but even Nicole's eyes didn't shift, didn't glance at me or the doctor, she just sat calmly, completely oblivious to both of us.  This lasted for perhaps a minute or two, and then Nicole quietly turned and laid back down on the bed.

I didn't know exactly what it was that happened, but I knew that it was something very significant.  I believe that someone was communicating with Nicole through the veil, and that choices were being made, decisions were being made.  It was a sacred moment that is etched on my memory.  I felt that Nicole had figuratively just stood at a crossroads, weighed the options, and that she had made her choice.  And I was left to wonder what choice, what decision it was that had been made.

Shortly after that, at 8 A.M. or so, several of the staff came in, and explained that they believed that Nicole's heart was beating so fast that it wasn't able to fill-up properly, and one of the valves was leaking.  Her blood wasn't being circulated properly and more and more CO2 was being built up in her bloodstream.  They had decided that they were going to lightly sedate her, and put her on a BiPAP, which is similar to a CPAP machine used for sleep apnea, but it has a high pressure and a low pressure that it switches between, to encourage both good inhalation and good exhalation.  They hoped that this would take care of the CO2 problem, and hopefully have a positive influence on the heart function as well.  I think is was at this time that I was first asked if Cathy was coming, and if she would be here soon, but I got asked that question a few times, by a few different staff members, so perhaps the first occurrence was earlier, but it drove home the anxiety I was feeling that we were standing on a great precipice, and Cathy needed to get to the hospital as soon as possible.

In the meantime Nicole's appearance continued to worsen.  I was very anxious for Cathy to arrive before they did the sedation and BiPAP, and I was also very anxious about Nicole's condition.  Her skin had a greyish hue that reminded me how she looked in December 2011 when she was first Life-Flighted to PCMC.  Her mouth was partially open, but there was a layer of gummy...stuff...almost like a thin skin tissue that covered most of the opening, and she wouldn't let me try to wipe it away. She looked terrible, and my heart was breaking again.  What choice had been made?  Nicole had a lot of stuff hooked-up to her, but I managed to pick her up in my arms and cradle her on my shoulder. I just stood there and rocked her, wondering if she had decided that is was time to take the next step, and go on to the next life.

Cathy and our other girls arrived just after 9 A.M.; Nicole's attending nurse (one of the ones who was with us back at the very beginning, in 2011), had been stalling until Cathy got there, though he'd finally started the sedation.  Cathy took Nicole in her arms, and they proceeded to put the BiPAP mask on her.  Nicole was not happy about it, but mom being there helped a lot.  Soon after, our oldest daughter, Kersten, and her family arrived as well.  They only allow three people at a time (including parents) into the rooms in ICU, so we rotated in order for people to be able to see her.

My oldest brother and his wife arrived at the hospital around 10 A.M., as I was on the way out to the car to bring in a tote with some of Nicole's things.  I just sat in the car for 10 or 15 minutes.  I had a brief, good cry, and then started praying again.  I needed to know what God's will was for Nicole.  After a few minutes cutting through my emotions, I felt the Spirit confirm my earlier feeling that Nicole was in for yet another hard trial, but God would strengthen her and spare her life.  I went back inside, and my brother assisted me in administering a blessing to my little girl.  The anxiety I had felt previously that morning was replaced with peace.

The sedation Nicole was given was light, and despite her exhaustion, she was still uncomfortable, and didn't settle in and sleep, but after a couple hours, she started to look better.  The day passed without incident; Cathy's family came to visit, and later on, a few of our neighbors from Hyrum.  By the end of the day, Nicole's CO2 level had improved somewhat, and she was alert and looking much better than she had first thing in the morning.  Unfortunately, however, her heart has not improved, and her kidney function has worsened.

I know that God lives.  I am grateful for the Gospel of Jesus Christ, and for the power and the peace that springs from His atoning sacrifice.  I know that Nicole has chosen to stay with us here in mortality for the time being, and that God will honor her choice; her life is in His hands, and He will preserve her.  I know that her days are known unto God, and her years shall not be numbered less.  I know that our Savior is the Only Begotten Son of the Father in the flesh, and that through His sacrifice, we shall all be resurrected, and brought back into the presence of God.  I know that He is mindful of each of His children, and that He hears and answers our prayers.  I know that Christ has taken upon Him not only our sins and our transgressions, but also our pains, our afflictions, and our sicknesses.  I know that He has suffered according to the flesh, that He may know, according to the flesh, how to succor each of us in our infirmities.  I know that the Lord God truly does visit His people in their afflictions.

And this is not all.  Do ye not suppose that I know of these thing myself?  Behold, I testify unto you that I do know that these things whereof I have spoken are true.  And how do ye suppose that I know of their surety?  Behold, I say unto you that they are made known unto me by the Holy Spirit of God.  And this is the testimony which is in me.  In the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.